I've wanted to experience a book club for a long time. With a little more confidence and little less thinking, I finally stuck my neck out to see if a select group of friends would like to join me in a book club. Delightfully, friends were up for it and so it was going to be.
Enjoying NPR on rides to and from my children schools, I learned of a book called, The Twelve Tribes of Hattie. It is the author, Ayana Mathis', first novel and it got Oprah's attention.
Intentionally and proactively, I seek racial diversity, and with that comes a desire to understand the differences from one person to another. I thought this would be a good book in understanding the african/american culture, particularly historically, and the effects it plays today. When listening to NPR introduce the book, they discussed how in the 40's, people living in Georgia looked at Philadelphia as the land of milk and honey, the interview got MY attention.
I began to read the book over the holiday. After the first three chapters I thought, 'Oh no! What have I gotten myself AND others into?' After the fourth chapter, I got sucked in. When I got to the last three chapters, I made myself just get it over with. I've never wanted to finish a book so bad. It was very well written, BUT it was incredibly sad and it opened my eyes to a world that I had very little knowledge of. In spite of the sadness, I was pretty confident that with this kind of book, a number of great conversations could come out of it.
For various reasons, the attendance of friends in the group went from seven to four. (this was an exercise for me to let go of control, and to trust that it can be a good time even if it turned out to be only two of us!)
The hostess served mimosas, someone brought a quiche, I brought strawberries, and another brought donuts - off to a great start:)
How do I sum up the discussion?!
Let me first say that the discussion was enriching and I am a better person for it. Listening to everyone share bits and pieces of the "baggage" they carry because of the family they grew up in, or hearing a dear friend share with me the reality of how black woman are still oppressed, and all of us discussing/wrestling with what compassion really looks like - I looked at it as a beautiful thing and was privileged to call these ladies, my friends.
Here are three things I wanted to target and what I went away with:
1. Womanhood - we, as women, do not give ourselves enough grace. We cant always make decisions in the present based on mistakes we made in the past. We have to look forward, not live in fear, and (most importantly) give grace.
2. Community - Embrace it, enjoy it, and more then anything, seek to understand it. Understand that the mom who is cursing at her kids (just maybe) had to take two buses to get where she was, her husband (just maybe) did not come home last night, and maybe this may be a generational thing where she has not had opportunity to see life to be any different.
3. God - It is so important how we view God and the world we live in. We live in a broken world, but have a God that truly offers hope. But do we believe that? Do we live that out?
